


Sweater Weather

by plant_boi_potter



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff and Humor, M/M, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 11:58:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21445861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plant_boi_potter/pseuds/plant_boi_potter
Summary: “You need a statement piece! Why don’t you have any cut-off jeans! Just to make you look presentable - you’re not going to a funeral Al!”“I might be if you keep on, and I promise it’ll be yours.”
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wynnyfryd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnyfryd/gifts).

“You need a statement piece! Why don’t you have any cut-off jeans! Just to make you look presentable - you’re not going to a funeral Al!” 

“I might be if you keep on, and I promise it’ll be yours.”

“Okay. Ouch.”

Scorpius seemed to have a pristine wardrobe despite the minimal effort he put into each ensemble. Sea green and oxford blue, blending so seamlessly together that Al sometimes had to blink to see where a shirt ended and a pair of jeans began. He paired baggy shirts with skinny jeans as if it was just a natural combination. He looked _ good _. He kept his hair rumpled, barely running his fingers through it every morning. 

“Anyway,” Albus waggled a toothbrush in Scorpius’ general direction, “I have pictures of you before all of _ this _so I’d shut your gob if I was you.” 

It was true. Scorpius had looked like a stuffy gentleman for many years before he’d developed his own fashion sense, allowing his father to dress him up until his early teens. He still had a box of old robes somewhere, ‘as keepsakes.’

But now, Scorpius’ side of the wardrobe looked like a cool toned paradise, compared to Albus’ side, which was mostly all black - not to mention the dishevelled heap of jumpers surreptitiously piled at the bottom of the wardrobe. 

“Oh! I got you something by the way!” Scorpius disappeared half under the bed as Albus emerged from the bathroom, face freshly washed and hair brushed down into some sort of agreeable shape. 

“I woke up looking like a hedgehog- where are you?”

“Here.” 

Scorpius emerged a minute later with a box, tied lopsidedly with a thin green ribbon. 

Al’s jeans were alright; black with only a minor amount of ripping at the thigh. His shirt, however was an abomination. Black and white squares _ everywhere _. 

“Suave old lady - meet my boyfriend; a walking book of the strategy and tactics of Draughts.” He muttered under his breath as he thrust the box into Al’s hands. Scorpius deduced he was right to buy him a jumper - he absolutely wasn’t going to his mother’s with Al dressed like a checker-board. 

Albus’ nose crinkled at the sweater he now held out in front of him. “It’s yellow.” 

“It’s _warm _Al, you're_ freezing_! Go try it on!”

“But my aesthetic!” 

“You’re in No Man’s Land when you come to my mother’s house and you know it.” Al couldn’t exactly argue there - because even Scorpius made an effort for Astoria. 

“Fine.” Al held his arms out and Scorpius shrugged, shimmying the fabric from hem to collar, enjoying the feeling of the wool knit through his fingers.

“You seriously want me to dress you?” Scorpius huffed a laugh before struggling to push the heavy sleeves over Albus’ hands. While he was getting the collar over his head, Scorpius worked on the hem, pulling it down on one side to give the garish yellow more of an Albus Potter ‘vibe’. 

“How is it?”

Albus had, at least, wiped the annoyed scowl off his face, trying to settle for cool indifference instead, crossing his arms over his chest. “I look like a pumpkin.” 

“Yeah, but you’re my pumpkin.” Albus blushed at this, but allowed Scorpius to lean up on his tiptoes, pressing a kiss to one, dimpled cheek. 

“Can’t we just stay here.” Al cocked his eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips, his fists already bunched in Scorps' shirt.

“No we cannot. We have to go!”

“Alright mum.” Albus laughed, pulling on the chunkiest boots he could get away with before following Scorpius down to their apartments’ communal floo network. 

The woman from number 3 informed him he looked nice before he departed. Albus smiled, curling a sweater paw into Scorpius’ long fingers. Maybe,_ just maybe_, the jumper wasn't all that bad.


End file.
